Saligia
by Person With Many Aliases
Summary: He was a Guardian. This empire was immortal. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than to know he would dutifully serve the Orokin to the very end. Perhaps even beyond. (Submission for the "Old Memories" Contest on the Warframe Forum.)


**Saligia**

* * *

_As we resound the ten beats of rebirth, we offer our revered Tenno the honor of first row, that they be acknowledged not as warriors or soldiers, but as creators of peace. Come and listen as we end the drums of war, and bring silence to our suffering._

He knelt far in the back, one more face among the crowd of Guardians. He watched them, adorned in gold and silver silk. Finally, they were one of them. Tenno glory had subsumed Tenno fear, and now they kneeled with honor and acceptance.

He was Orokin, and the Empire was he. Each drum beat, they all remembered a hundred thousand million times across the Origin System of their journey to victory.

* * *

_Let the first beat be made, signifying Orokin Humility._

It had been for the first second of his adult life, he really felt fear. He would not question the Emperor's choice to clothe the ones from the Void and set them to battle the Sentients who had until now been undefeatable. But the Tenno were not they, yet they capable of so much more. The Sentients could not turn aside pure steel or simple machine or the power of the Void. So he watched, in horrified awe as the Tenno slammed his blade into the ground, and hundreds of Tendril-Soldiers exploded. This was a power he would never acquire, and it scared him that it belonged to the Tenno, and not to them.

The Emperors heard this fear, though, and reassured them.

"For all their power, the Tenno will never equal the might of our ancient civilization. They were born out of Voidlight in mere measured years. What can they accomplish against our indomitable might? We are the greatest empire this galaxy will ever know. The Tenno are fortuitous accidents. It is by our will alone that they partake in our cause. Fear not. All tools function only as we please, cease likewise."

He swelled with pride at the imperial scripture. What was said could be nothing but the truth. The Tenno are _our_ creations. There was nothing to fear from what they controlled.

* * *

_Let the second beat be made, signifying Orokin Sufficiency._

The Orokin had to do whatever was necessary to win. Sometimes it meant consolidating resources. His corps had touched down, and General Miybrus streamed the orders to the man commanding the front lines.

"By order of the Deacons, the Guardians will requisition your weapons. We have greater need for them."

Around him were the dead and the exhausted, and in the horizon, he could see the Eyeless, guarding the perimeters with unceasing vigil.

"We can't fight the Sentients with percussion rifles!" Sergeant Nryad Yolso shouted at his General, and he stood nearby, stony and unmoved.

"The Tenno have been routing them with swords, Sergeant. You have no complaint to broker."

"Those are _Tenno_! They're different! They're the ones can crush ships just by thinking hard!"

"You are a proud soldier of the Orokin Empire. What the Tenno accomplish by trickery, your forces will outperform by honor, bravery, and trust."

"If that's true, how come you're taking all our best weapons for yourselves?"

"Make us proud, Sergeant."

He was ordered to move the crates to their ship. Boltors, Bratons, Boars, all of them were transferred under the watchful gaze of his general, and the furious stares of the common soldiers standing nearby.

He did not complain. So long as he was supplied with the means to live, fight, and win, others could handle their situation as they pleased.

* * *

_Let the third beat be made, signifying Orokin Wisdom._

Orokin was about control. When one exhibited absolute control over oneself, biology, neurology, psychology, it proved that you had the right to dictate the method by which others should control themselves. This truth was the underpinning of the Empire, and it was the truth, because what other reason could they have lasted this long if it did not work?

The presence of the Sentients changed nothing. This war they were not losing, even against the countless losses they sustained. It was a matter of belief. Believe you will win, and your control will make it so. Did they not find the Tenno to fight for them? Was this not a sign of ingenuity?

But the Tenno were perhaps a little... slow. They created marvels that laid waste to the Sentients, but how much longer would the empire suffer through this war?

The Orokin needed more. Much more was needed for their cause. The Tenno were not enough. They wanted a more absolute power. More power.

There was a rumor of a sleeping power on Earth, something buried deep in the ground, and he was tasked to obtain this power for it was wise. He and the others Guardians took the craft to the battered planet surface, where cities were little more than flattened dust, and he stepped out to breathe the grainy silica. Under his feet was an old sign that bore the word "Lasria", and this told him they were in the right continent.

They followed the route mapped out for them, until they reached the great circular steel doors of a Vault. The Prehistoric Key worked, and the gears pried the old doors open.

Air rushed out, and he could immediately feel the oppressing aura beckoning them in.

Without fear, he stepped into the dark vault, for he knew this was necessary.

Yes, this was the power deserved to belong to the Orokin. The Orokin must have all the power the galaxy had to offer because they needed it more than anyone else.

* * *

_Let the fourth beat be made, signifying Orokin Generosity._

He was a Guardian, the merest of chosen Orokin warriors, and there were purer, greater men in the Empire that dreamed of coveting the Eyeless Woman From Earth. She was so exotic and delectable. Something not of gold and marble and thus infinitely more eye catching. Lovers dreamed of touching her flawless skin, immortal and laced with their Orokin smartwire. Scholars dreamed of being considered equal with her wisdom, that saw every atom in the Origin. Rulers dreamed of marrying her power, the isolated intranet that let her command all the Tenno with nothing but plea.

The Empire wanted every part of the outsider Woman From Earth. Was there no greater honor to be heaped?

But she never looked their way. For all the gifts she received, all the speeches, and all the propositions, she only answered, "The lotus is prized as a rare beauty. It blooms amidst filth and decay."

He still dreamed and watched from a distance, looking at that woman with everyone else, until they learned of the day she wept for another. They found out it was for the death of a particular Tenno. The Jester Tenno. Not for the Sword, or the Smoke, or the Ocean, she wept for the Fool!

If the least of the Tenno could make her cry, could it be only they were what brought her smiles? He burned with jealousy. The whole empire did. "If only she did not love the Eyeless", "If only there were no Eyeless".

But the war was turning... when they won... the Tenno would have no outstanding use in times of peace.

They could wait, until she was... available.

* * *

_Let the fifth beat be made, signifying Orokin Discipline. _

He stood on guard, while the Deacons debated and theorized on the intent behind the Emperor's commands.

"The war is as good as won by now. The Tenno have done their part admirably," Praepropere said.

"It's time to ask 'what more can they do for us'! We've rescued them, protected them, clothed them, armed them... all they're doing now is their _obligation_! We have invested. Now it is time they returned," Laute agreed.

"With the Tenno in hand, we can accomplish so much more. Think of all the systems we can assimilate much more easily? Think of the mysteries of the Void we can pursue! Our Empire can expand a thousand times with this opportunity." Nimis spoke up next.

"The Tenno are made to be used. The Emperors clearly desire us to use them. We can make more Tenno, for every function we need of them. We can make as many Tenno as we need," Ardenter added.

"Yes, the Tenno are not considered officially part of our forces. Technically they are privateers, or mercenaries. We can reduce the losses of our forces by applying our creations to more branches. Perhaps even civilian uses. We can say it is for helping the civilian populace acclimate to them, and our war heroes to a life without conflict," Studiose said, considering the possibilities, "At any rate, I doubt the Tenno will need the Lotus to micromanage every step of their lives when this war ends..."

"Yes, the Emperors has already forseen all we have imagined just now. His edicts are clear: With the war ending, we must find a new yoke for our Tenno. Let us begin preparations as soon as possible," Forente said, with murmurs of agreement all around. He, standing nearby, added his own silent acceptance.

The Tenno were made to be used, just as he was a Guardian in service to the Emperor. The ability to be wielded would be a great honor.

* * *

_Let the sixth beat be made, signifying Orokin Compassion. _

To be Orokin was to be infinitely wise, infinitely just, and infinitely patient. So when an Orokin man came to anger, one knew it was in good cause.

He did not know the nature of the crime the one Tenno must have committed to broker such a response from the Generals. He did not need to know. All that was of import was that one of them had been wronged, and therefore was in the right to extract retribution from the Tenno Cloud Consciousness.

The Lotus had objected, of course. But she did not understand the ways of his people yet. Not until she had lived a few more millennia would she gain the insight necessary to see what they were doing was correct. She complained no further, and presided over the removal of the Warframe from the offending Tenno, while the wardens ensured that the physical and psychological data was transferred to the rest of the Tenno in the galaxy. They would shudder and writhe, no mouth to scream, and they would take this lesson to heart about the consequences of offending their creators.

* * *

_Let the seventh beat be made, signifying Orokin Diligence._

The war had been won, and celebrations were performed in every tower, least to greatest. The Emperors had made it expressly clear the Tenno were to be seen in a position of honor in an upcoming ceremony, and countless soldiers and Guardians had extended their greetings to the Eyeless in response.

The Tenno were apparently welcoming, but he had detected signs that seemed unusual for the heroes. They were... absorbed, as if preoccupied with something. The void communication between the countless Warframes had spiked by five quintillion, but the contents were unknown, as they were on a seperate network, administrated by the Lotus, who herself had become reticent in recent weeks. She shied away from public appearances, preferring to communicate through stream comms. What was so important that they wished to keep to themselves? The war was over, what more was there to worry over? Let the Empire take the reins from them now, and lead them to the new eon of peace.

As a Guardian, it was his duty to voice such concerns to his General. He waved his worries away, busy as he was overseeing the resealing of the Empires most dangerous weapons away now that there were no more Sentients to destroy.

" We have won this war, Guardian. We have all the time in the Universe to respond to whatever the Tenno may be planning. The Emperors will have foreseen all the Tenno have plotted. For now, let them toy with their cleverness. Let them wear themselves out with their plans, while we enjoy the celebrations we deserve."

He bowed in salute to his General. It shall be as he says.

* * *

_Let the eighth beat be made, signifying Orokin Bravery._

The Tenno kneeled in a line before the Emperors, heads bowed in reverence for the drums.

Why was he finding it so hard to breathe?

Fear had welled up in him again.

What was wrong with this moment? What was wrong with the Tenno being honored for their contributions to the Empire?

The Sword bowed lower, and his fists tightened in his lap. As he watched this, he felt animal instincts bolt through him, demanding he confront the Tenno. He fought it down, despite wishing so badly to fail his Orokin training.

The Emperors have foreseen everything. They have. They must have.

The Tenno was kneeling. The Tenno was bowing. The Tenno was tensing to strike.

No, no, that couldn't be it. But he was so afraid. Was he not the only one who felt the dread in the air? This was not a pause of solemnity. This was the pause of a man staring at a land slide in a distance coming towards him. An inevitable destiny that is not walked towards, but accepted by.

What is about to happen here? To all of them? What was going to happen-

One of the Tenno shifted his kneeling posture, and pressed the toes of the Warframe against the marble floor, about to lunge.

Everything fell into place.

He tried to shout.

_No. No, please, spare them. Spare the Emperors! Don't do this! We have not wronged you-!_

Instead, all he did was hear his breath waver.

* * *

_Let the ninth beat be made, signifying Orokin Hop-_

They were too far back. They were too far back and too late. The horror sunk into him and others around him in cold tendrils that speared their hearts, even as they jumped to their feet. There were too many of them... _too many_... armed with glowing blade and gun, while he and the Guardians carried meager, ceremonial side arms.

Honor dictated they rush the Tenno, avenge the Emperors even as their blue catalyst fluid painted their chairs and the ground and the warriors they were honoring, all in silk. But he felt only agony. The acutest of despair as the bullets flattened against their active shields, and the Guardians were upon them in an instant, necks outstretched for their deaths...

There was nothing he could do... there was nothing... he failed to protect, he failed to avenge, and now he was going to die as the bodies of his brethren collapsed on him, shot and stabbed and crushed and burned and frozen and pulverized and deatomized-

* * *

_In silence of the tenth:_

When it was long over, he awoke. Slashed, punctured, and pounded, but nonetheless alive. Blinking awake, he listened to the silence. Not Orokin silence of meditation, but utter silence of absence.

He did not understand this immediately. All he could do was pry the bodies of his companions off him, and dig his way out of the mountain of corpses, until he emerged to the ceremony hall filled with the dead.

They were all dead.

The Emperors who peered into the future and brought back assurance. The Deacons who interpreted and tended to the people. The Generals who protected. The Guardians who he fought beside. All dead. There was nothing left.

He stumbled through the mass grave and suffocated on his horror. Here was the Empire. Here he was the witness to the dissolution of the Empire in its entirety. The people could not lead themselves. It was over.

Why? Why had it come to this?

He walked outside, where he heard bass thrumming, not like a naga drum. He looked up, and saw the noise was that of countless Liset stealth craft, each bearing a flower sigil. They all took off, one after another, hurtling out of the void in countless directions, back into the Origin System. Escaping. Hiding.

Them. It was them. They did this. They did all of this, and only he was here to remember this sin.

His head swam and his heart drowned, and he kept himself afloat only by these venomous realizations, and he repeated them again and again, letting the acid in his veins burn ever more, inscribing this adrift truth to his body.

They did this. After everything, after their discovery, their glory, after the war, they now did this...

The sensation boiled in his chest until he broke the silence, screaming into the Void, vowing he would find them, he would find every one of the Betrayers no matter how long it would take, his hate... his hate was so pure, and he howled like a wolf...

* * *

_Warframe_ property of Digital Extremes.

Placed 1st in the "Old Memories" contest on the Warframe Forum.


End file.
